


He Keeps His Hands Low

by kaciemcr



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: M/M, au where fob doesnt exist, drummer patrick, this is p much just smut i guess, yes the title is sic transit gloria
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-20
Updated: 2017-02-20
Packaged: 2018-09-25 19:08:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9840029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaciemcr/pseuds/kaciemcr
Summary: Pete goes to Patrick's rock show.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for any mistakes lol

It’s probably only 9 pm when the opening band finishes their last song. The last guitar strum rings out in the crowded room before the drummer, Patrick, pulls out a solo to beat behind the lead singer's “thank you for coming” speech. The band walks off the stage, and after putting away his drumsticks and chugging a bottle of water, Patrick abandons his bandmates to join the audience. He signs a few offhand autographs, but his band isn’t big enough for anyone to care about crowding him. A few drunk guys his age compliment his playing and backup vocals before returning to their dancing. Patrick joins in, sweat already dripping from his forehead from his drumming, dancing to the main bands music. It’s a song he vaguely recognizes, and he tells himself he will listen to more of their music in the future, even though he knows he won’t care in the morning. They were only playing a few shows together, because one of his bandmates knew one of theirs. 

A few songs later, Patrick feels a body slide up closer to him than the normal bumping he was experiencing. A loose hand grazes his hip where his shirt has risen up, and he feels a chill spread from where it touched. Behind him, he admires a boy his height with dark hair laid damp across his forehead. There’s smudged eyeliner reaching his cheekbone under one eye, and he laughs to himself. A typical boy in the scene. A hot breath rolls across his ear.

He turns to face the boy, ignoring the crowd around them and the group of 3 he had previously been dancing with. Dark-haired boy smirks at him when they meet eyes. They are dark too, and even darker with only the flashing colored lights illuminating from above them. He steps a foot closer into Patrick’s space and grips his hips again. Patrick’s hand hover over the ones touching him before ghosting up to brush the boy’s bangs out of his face. His mouth hangs open slightly as Patrick’s fingers pass by. His breath is warm and humid against his blistered fingers. He snaps at him playfully before leaning forward to kiss his cheek lightly, surprising Patrick. 

They continue dancing together until the pop punk-looking lead singer throws his last pick into the crowd and dramatically bows before following his band offstage. They go into a dressing room backstage which makes Patrick’s eyes light up. He leans as close to the boy as he can to whisper for him to follow and smiles when he obligingly does. The two wander backstage, where Patrick shows them his pass, and they let them in. The rest of his band is either long gone or out trying to score free drinks at the bar. 

Once out of the loud audience, a voice says “I’m Pete, by the way” much closer to Patrick’s ear than he expects, and he looks back to see his new friend is following him eagerly. The dark eyes look him up and down mischievously, before meeting Patrick’s again. He smiles when Patrick tells him his own name. They slip into Patrick’s band’s dressing room, and Pete pulls them into a lying position on the couch. Patrick stumbles, landing on top of him with his knees pressing into the cushions around Pete’s legs. A hand grips his shirt with a force that pulls him nose to nose with Pete. He strokes his cheek before locking a hand on his jaw and finally kissing him. Pete skips the casualties by shoving his tongue past Patrick’s pink lips moments after they connect. A moan escapes him in return. 

Pete’s hands fumble with Patrick’s zipper until Patrick breaks the kiss and undoes it himself, before doing the same to Pete’s tight jeans. He pushes them down and palms the growing bulge below him. He feels a similar feeling in his pants as Pete runs a hand along his torso. His cheeks are red, but he’s staring back at him with desire.

Patrick gives him a deep kiss before leaning back and pulling Pete’s length out. A soft moan fills the otherwise quiet room. One of Pete’s hands plays carelessly with a loose thread of the couch, while the other refuses to stop touching Patrick, his thigh, his arm, his hair. Each time Patrick leans in to kiss him, his hand is locked onto Patrick’s strawberry blonde hair. It’s a mess. 

Patrick ignores his dick in favor of sucking purple marks onto Pete’s tan skin. His hand picks up the pace from gentle stroking. He rubs his thumb over the head and lets himself bask in the noises Pete makes. Under him, Pete looks like sweaty, stimulated. Hot. It doesn’t take long until the dark-haired boy breathing speeds up, and his moans become more frequent. Soon he lets out a warning before releasing into Patrick’s hand. Patrick strokes him through it, smirking at what he’s done. He pulls himself off a euphoric Pete to wipe the sticky substance onto an already sweat-covered towel. 

“Get back here,” Pete mumbles, pulling himself into more of a sitting position. His voice is rough, and his dick is still hanging out, going limp. He silently puts it away. Patrick cleans between his fingers before joining him on the couch again, this time sitting. Pete kisses his neck, thinking about how the bruise will contrast against Patrick’s pale skin. He pushes him against the back of the couch, and Patrick’s eyes flutter shut. Pete stumbles to to the floor, his knees hitting the concrete in front of Patrick. He pulls Patrick’s dick out of his boxers and kisses the head once. A hand tugs his straightened hair as he envelopes the dick in his mouth. Patrick moans at the sudden wet warmth. 

Pete’s tongue moves with experience, flicking the head when he pulls off. He pumps the base with his hand, surveying Patrick’s face above him. It twists with pleasure, and he releases short breathes, meaning he was close. Pete envelops as much of the length as he can and moans around it, the vibrations almost sending the other boy over the edge. It doesn’t take much longer before Patrick stutters out Pete’s name, who barely has time to pull off, and is coming. It lands mostly on Pete’s hand, but Pete shudders at the feeling of some hitting his cheek. Patrick’s eyes are closed above him, his hands curled in what fabric he could grab of the couch. Strands of blonde hair stick out randomly, and Pete has a feeling he looks the exact same way. 

He wipes his cheek with his clean hand and stumbles over to the towel Patrick used. There’s a dull ache in his knees that he ignores. Once satisfied with his cleaned hands, he joins Patrick on the couch again. 

“We should do this again,” Pete runs a hand through his hair and waits to be told to leave, like usual. 

“Sure.” Patrick answers with a small smile.

Pete leaves with a scribbled phone number on a napkin.

**Author's Note:**

> I only wrote this, because I rediscovered my ~sex~ playlist...  
> Thanks for the read, this was fun to write.


End file.
